


It's His Head or Yours

by SweemyClod



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Black Eagles Felix Hugo Fraldarius, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Felix Hugo Fraldarius Being an Asshole, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, First Chapter Has a Happy Ending, Gen, M/M, Mentioned Edelgard von Hresvelg, Mentioned My Unit | Byleth, No Spoilers, Non-Canon because i cant remember 50 characters backstories and messed up oops, Sylvain Jose Gautier Being An Idiot, Sylvain Jose Gautier Needs A Hug, The Second Chapter is an Alternate tragic Ending, felix is a badass, i ship it but, oh yeah sylvain is a badass too, pick ur poison, you dont need to read it romantically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweemyClod/pseuds/SweemyClod
Summary: “Hmm.” Hubert hummed, entertaining the notion he was considering Felix’s argument.“Strange how you were wounded when I asked for your help against that Lord.” Hubert responded dryly. He was still approaching, hand glowing with dark magic as an obvious threat. Due to the darkness from the surrounding trees, it lit his face eerily. “You were friends with him back at the academy. And you obviously prioritize him over even yourself. You let that soldier hurt you to not have to kill your friend. Yes, this is the textbook definition of turning traitor.”The simply mild grin on Hubert’s face made Felix want to spit in his face. The dark bishop was out of range for this, but the wounded swordmaster certainly considered it.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Hubert von Vestra, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 7
Collections: Fire Emblem: Three Houses by SweemyClod





	1. Felix Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Both chapters have a >>> where the story diverges for you to continue reading if you wish. :) Again, first chapter is happy, second is tragic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy end. Come get y'all's lightly shippy vibe food

Felix charged through foes like a whirlwind. Hitting foes twice before he could even be touched, he could not help but think thankfully of his Professor. If he had not switched to the Professor’s class, he genuinely wondered how his skill level would have fared. He had started at Garreg Mach as an already remarkable swordsman, but the Professor was able to carve his diamond quality skills into a beautiful gem truly worthy of being one of the Flame Emperor's head men. If he had stayed in Dimitri’s class… 

The thought disgusted him and brought out such a repulsed feeling he took it out on the next soldier, running his blade quickly through the person’s gut after deflecting an attempted blow. Kicking the soldier off his blade violently, he knew he was simply overpowering on his own.

Felix would always consider his decision to leave that godforsaken Boar’s class as the best decision he had ever made. Edelgard was to bring great change to Fódlan, and Dimitri wanted to sit in his little depression rut and keep things the same. Yes, so he could continue to sit in his rut.

With a quick puff of air, Felix attempted to dispel his anger welling within him. Many soldiers were closing in on him. Though the swordsman could beat most in an individual match without a break, he could recognize a group attack was too much for him, so he fell back. 

Edelgard charged forwards to take care of the impending ranks and nodded appreciatively to Felix as they passed each other, who couldn’t deny caused a bit of him to feel fleeting glee from.

Joining up with the Professor, Felix grabbed a vulnerary to take care of the wounds he’d received. Byleth asked if he wanted to continue, complimenting his work. Felix rolled his eyes at the question, answering yes. 

Running back out, Felix could see a familiar knight. It was Sylvain. The distinctive red hair was enough for his mind to recognize from a half-mile or so out.

He tried to change directions. Felix certainly wouldn’t care if it came down to killing him, but it just wasn’t preferable. However, Hubert (maybe even detecting this) had apparently decided to change directions as well, coming up from behind and yelling to him, “Cover me, Felix.”

The swordsman could only simply stare for a moment, panic running through his body. A soldier took the opportunity to slice at him, and successfully created a gaping wound in his side. Letting out a yell of anguish, Felix, with adrenaline now coursing through him responded to the cut with an attack of his own. Crest triggering, the swing successfully sliced the soldier fully in half.

He had to fall back into a forest. He drank the vulnerary from Byleth and had to give the medicine (as well as himself) a second. He was breathing heavily. Leaning back against a tree and slowly lowering himself to the ground, he waited for the vulnerary to take its full effect. Healers weren’t around him to call on from what he was aware of.

The smell of his own blood was so potent it was causing him to become nauseous. Touching a hand to the wound, he brought his bloodied hand to his eyes and groaned. This wasn’t good.

And then, he saw, Hubert had followed.

“Are you turning traitor?” The imposing man asked as he approached. His face held a mild frown, but the weight it held was incomparable.

Obviously Felix had somehow taken precedent to the surrounding war.

“No you idiot.” Felix answered harshly, coughing from pain he was trying to deny to himself. “You can’t see this shit?” He gestured to the gaping wound that was bleeding through his clothes. Blood from soldiers he had killed had spattered his garments, but it was unmistakable the swordmaster was badly wounded.

“Hmm.” Hubert hummed, entertaining the notion he was considering Felix’s argument.

“Strange how you were wounded when I asked for your help against that Lord.” Hubert responded dryly. He was still approaching, hand glowing with dark magic as an obvious threat. Due to the darkness from the surrounding trees, it lit his face eerily. “You were friends with him back at the academy. And you obviously prioritize him over even yourself. You let that soldier hurt you to not have to kill your friend. Yes, this is the textbook definition of turning traitor.” 

The simply mild grin on Hubert’s face made Felix want to spit in his face. The dark bishop was out of range for this, but the wounded swordmaster certainly considered it.

Felix was now gritting his teeth. He knew Hubert was an absolute sociopath, and had up to this point simply avoided him because of it. Now he felt the pressure of being under a microscope, what he’d hoped to avoid forever.

He hated it. 

“Goddess in heaven, Hubert, I was taking in what you shouted at me, and I got hit! It’s fucking simple. Shut it and leave.” The swordsman answered angrily, though unconvincingly after a beat of silence. His head was pounding. Adrenaline had fallen to a panicked, sinking feeling that he so hated.

From the perspective of Hubert, Felix was a caged, wounded animal backed into the corner of its cage with hackles high and teeth bared. It just needed to be put down, not that it understood. Truly the specimen he was viewing was showing all signs of returning to basic survival out of pure desperation to save itself. Other than Lady Edelgard, he would lie to not admit to living for moments like this. 

Emotional pressure was simply icing on the cake.

Hubert shook his head slowly without blinking. “I want to see you _kill_ that Lord and take _his head_ or _it will be yours_.” The dark bishop stated slowly. Gripping his fist shut, the black magic disappeared. He walked away from Felix, only slightly turning his head over his shoulder to continue. Equally as slow as before, “I will be watching.”

Felix watched him leave with heavy breaths, the smell of his blood hitting him again. The pounding overtook his thoughts. He so rarely cried, but having been understatedly put between a rock and a hard place he was simply responding to the pressure. He yelled, throwing his weapon from him and began hitting the tree with his legs and fists. Any part of him. This made his wound hurt ever worse, but because of the pressure in his head he couldn’t give less of a shit. 

\---

The tree he had leaned on for support before was not only caked with his blood from his wound, but now also had dents from his physical exertion of his frustration.

Panting, Felix grit his teeth and breathed in and out harshly through his nose, eyes shut tightly to deny tears. He held himself this way to try and collect himself. To steel himself. He was going to kill Sylvain. He was going to-

No. No, he wasn’t. Hubert could shove his magic up his ass. This war wasn’t worth this. Sylvain might die eventually, but it wouldn’t be by Felix’s hand. 

Felix violently shook his head. He couldn’t process. He wasn’t admitting something to himself.

He’d die if he rejoined the Blue Lions. He wouldn’t be able to explain himself. He damned not only Sylvain, but also Dimitri the last time he’d seen them. The blonde lord leading the group knew his feelings. He’d known for so long. So desperately Dimitri had wished to return their relationship to when they were children. It was childlike in notion, and Felix always shot these conversations down before they could happen.

The whole Blue Lions class knew his feelings and why he left. It was unfortunately inevitable to them.

Felix decided he was not going to go turncoat due to Sylvain… the red haired knight was not worth that decision. 

Memories flooded in of frustrating interactions. Things that no matter how much Felix tried to erase from himself and tell himself he’d not cared for were seared into him by love. Sylvain always demanding to train with him. Trying to drag him from training to talk to girls. When Ingrid and Sylvain would fight over Sylvain’s long line of broken hearts. Felix would rarely be there for these many conversations between the two, but he oddly held them fondly within himself. It was the love between those two, and stubbornness to remain friends regardless of utter frustration.

Sylvain’s spirit was one he didn’t know how to interact with. 

It wasn’t something he liked admitting, but Sylvain’s mix of self-consciousness and confidence lit a confused spark within him. It was natural chemistry they worked so well together due to their opposing personalities, and Sylvain’s pursuit to interact with him in spite of his constant cold shoulder… was very interesting to Felix. Another thing he didn’t like admitting. This disposition reminded Felix of himself when he was younger towards Dimitri. Felix also knew very well Sylvain was emotionally trying to replace Miklan, his brother turned crest beast and childhood abuser, with him. There was a harsh irony he had to recognize if he was to be honest with himself.

There were times where he was thankful for Sylvain’s socialization, though he wouldn’t communicate it. There were times where he had to admit he learned something by agreeing to train with the red-headed knight, though he never said it. Even, and so rarely, times Felix felt _open_ with him. That was a hard one to deny to himself, but he would simply act as if it weren’t the case when it was occuring.

Felix’s eyes clouded again as a memory resurfaced so quickly that he couldn’t hold it down any longer. Sylvain _almost died_ for him. And now he was being forced to kill him or be killed. Not only that. Behead him.

He punched the tree again to ignore the bile rising in his throat. There was no force to the strike.

>>>Felix knew what he had to do. He was signing his grave to the Empire.

He turned to go grab his sword. But standing nearby was a familiar knight, with his horse waiting beside him and flicking its tail. 

Felix’s heart caught in his throat. He breathed in disbelief when his eyes focused on his old friend.

“Felix.” 

It was all Sylvain said. It was all he had to say. 

“You don’t know what’s going on,” Felix began, his whole body feeling cloudy and numb. He was shaking his head. He could smell his blood again, his brain trying to remind him he was alive and hurt. “But I’m being ordered to kill you.”

Sylvain’s face lit up and Felix anticipated a joke, or something witty. The swordsman couldn’t fight the smile that came to his face. “In that state? Felix, that’s a _tad_ confident.” Sylvain said, scanning him up and down.

“Heh,” Felix breathed a laugh. “You know I’m far above your skills.” 

“Mmm, not without your weapon.” Sylvain said in a mildly singsong tone, and tossed the sword at his feet to Felix. In spite of his damage, Felix caught the handle. “If you’re going to kill me it’s going to be an equal fight. Drink a damn vulnerary.”

With a light sigh, Felix shook his head. “I could never. You almost died for me.”

“And I’d do it again.” Sylvain responded quickly with a nod, with a serious tone. The response was so prepared.

Felix looked down before returning his gaze to his friend. “We’re going to kill Hubert. Now.” He said, and with the final swig of his his vulnery began to walk to the edge of the clearing towards where Hubert had left. Sylvain followed swiftly without a word after mounting his horse, but the two were stopped by a Meteor spell.

The low accuracy spell missed luckily due to the forest surrounding them, and exploded close enough to blast them with wind but not harm. Hubert wasn’t lying about watching. It wasn’t an accidental miss either. It was a threat, and to let the two know he was prepared and aware of them targeting him.

“We’re going to need to be fast.” Felix said, locating the dark bishop. He was atop a hill, preparing another spell. Empire soldiers were approaching. Probably his battalion.

“Hop on.” Sylvain commanded. Felix swiftly mounted Sylvain’s horse, and they took off. Sylvain provided a steel lance to Felix and they both fought off soldiers as they swiftly approached their target. Hubert was launching spell after spell, a Meteor spell successfully launching the two off Sylvain’s horse. They both got quickly up and continued regardless, running towards the dark bishop. They felt unstoppable and kept pace with each other up the hill. 

Hubert had actually begun to back up. 

Felix launched forwards first when atop the hill, making a stabbing strike that pierced the dark bishop’s clothes. It wasn’t clear if damage was done, but Felix didn’t care. He swapped to his sword as Sylvain took over for him.

Sylvain spun in his approach to Hubert, taking all gathered momentum to hit Hubert with a full Tempest Lance. This launched the dark magic user backwards. Felix whistled to commend Sylvain, and received a quick wink from the knight. 

Hubert recovered swiftly, playing off his damage. He’d been through worse before. But he had to submit to defeat. “If you return to the Empire, Felix, I will personally kill you.” Hubert said, bringing out an elixir. He then vanished from a return spell cast upon him.

Felix and Sylvain panted as they processed their remarkable victory without words. Grinning to each other, they turned to kill more Empire soldiers.


	2. Felix Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragic alternate ending. Come get y'all's tragic, but still lightly shippy vibe food

Felix charged through foes like a whirlwind. Hitting foes twice before he could even be touched, he could not help but think thankfully of his Professor. If he had not switched to the Professor’s class, he genuinely wondered how his skill level would have fared. He had started at Garreg Mach as an already remarkable swordsman, but the Professor was able to carve his diamond quality skills into a beautiful gem truly worthy of being one of the Flame Emperor's head men. If he had stayed in Dimitri’s class… 

The thought disgusted him and brought out such a repulsed feeling he took it out on the next soldier, running his blade quickly through the person’s gut after deflecting an attempted blow. Kicking the soldier off his blade violently, he knew he was simply overpowering on his own.

Felix would always consider his decision to leave that godforsaken Boar’s class as the best decision he had ever made. Edelgard was to bring great change to Fódlan, and Dimitri wanted to sit in his little depression rut and keep things the same. Yes, so he could continue to sit in his rut.

With a quick puff of air, Felix attempted to dispel his anger welling within him. Many soldiers were closing in on him. Though the swordsman could beat most in an individual match without a break, he could recognize a group attack was too much for him, so he fell back. 

Edelgard charged forwards to take care of the impending ranks and nodded appreciatively to Felix as they passed each other, who couldn’t deny caused a bit of him to feel fleeting glee from.

Joining up with the Professor, Felix grabbed a vulnerary to take care of the wounds he’d received. Byleth asked if he wanted to continue, complimenting his work. Felix rolled his eyes at the question, answering yes. 

Running back out, Felix could see a familiar knight. It was Sylvain. The distinctive red hair was enough for his mind to recognize from a half-mile or so out.

He tried to change directions. Felix certainly wouldn’t care if it came down to killing him, but it just wasn’t preferable. However, Hubert (maybe even detecting this) had apparently decided to change directions as well, coming up from behind and yelling to him, “Cover me, Felix.”

The swordsman could only simply stare for a moment, panic running through his body. A soldier took the opportunity to slice at him, and successfully created a gaping wound in his side. Letting out a yell of anguish, Felix, with adrenaline now coursing through him responded to the cut with an attack of his own. Crest triggering, the swing successfully sliced the soldier fully in half.

He had to fall back into a forest. He drank the vulnerary from Byleth and had to give the medicine (as well as himself) a second. He was breathing heavily. Leaning back against a tree and slowly lowering himself to the ground, he waited for the vulnerary to take its full effect. Healers weren’t around him to call on from what he was aware of.

The smell of his own blood was so potent it was causing him to become nauseous. Touching a hand to the wound, he brought his bloodied hand to his eyes and groaned. This wasn’t good.

And then, he saw, Hubert had followed.

“Are you turning traitor?” The imposing man asked as he approached. His face held a mild frown, but the weight it held was incomparable.

Obviously Felix had somehow taken precedent to the surrounding war.

“No you idiot.” Felix answered harshly, coughing from pain he was trying to deny to himself. “You can’t see this shit?” He gestured to the gaping wound that was bleeding through his clothes. Blood from soldiers he had killed had spattered his garments, but it was unmistakable the swordmaster was badly wounded.

“Hmm.” Hubert hummed, entertaining the notion he was considering Felix’s argument. 

“Strange how you were wounded when I asked for your help against that Lord.” Hubert responded dryly. He was still approaching, hand glowing with dark magic as an obvious threat. Due to the darkness from the surrounding trees, it lit his face eerily. “You were friends with him back at the academy. And you obviously prioritize him over even yourself. You let that soldier hurt you to not have to kill your friend. Yes, this is the textbook definition of turning traitor.” 

The simply mild grin on Hubert’s face made Felix want to spit in his face. The dark bishop was out of range for this, but the wounded swordmaster certainly considered it.

Felix was now gritting his teeth. He knew Hubert was an absolute sociopath, and had up to this point simply avoided him because of it. Now he felt the pressure of being under a microscope, what he’d hoped to avoid forever.

He hated it. 

“Goddess in heaven, Hubert, I was taking in what you shouted at me, and I got hit! It’s fucking simple. Shut it and leave.” The swordsman answered angrily, though unconvincingly after a beat of silence. His head was pounding. Adrenaline had fallen to a panicked, sinking feeling that he so hated.

From the perspective of Hubert, Felix was a caged, wounded animal backed into the corner of its cage with hackles high and teeth bared. It just needed to be put down, not that it understood. Truly the specimen he was viewing was showing all signs of returning to basic survival out of pure desperation to save itself. Other than Lady Edelgard, he would lie to not admit to living for moments like this. 

Emotional pressure was simply icing on the cake.

Hubert shook his head slowly without blinking. “I want to see you _kill_ that Lord and take _his head_ or _it will be yours_.” The dark bishop stated slowly. Gripping his fist shut, the black magic disappeared. He walked away from Felix, only slightly turning his head over his shoulder to continue. Equally as slow as before, “I will be watching.”

Felix watched him leave with heavy breaths, the smell of his blood hitting him again. The pounding overtook his thoughts. He so rarely cried, but having been understatedly put between a rock and a hard place he was simply responding to the pressure. He yelled, throwing his weapon from him and began hitting the tree with his legs and fists. Any part of him. This made his wound hurt ever worse, but because of the pressure in his head he couldn’t give less of a shit. 

\---

The tree he had leaned on for support before was not only caked with his blood from his wound, but now also had dents from his physical exertion of his frustration.

Panting, Felix grit his teeth and breathed in and out harshly through his nose, eyes shut tightly to deny tears. He held himself this way to try and collect himself. To steel himself. He was going to kill Sylvain. He was going to-

No. No, he wasn’t. Hubert could shove his magic up his ass. This war wasn’t worth this. Sylvain might die eventually, but it wouldn’t be by Felix’s hand. 

Felix violently shook his head. He couldn’t process. He wasn’t admitting something to himself.

He’d die if he rejoined the Blue Lions. He wouldn’t be able to explain himself. He damned not only Sylvain, but also Dimitri the last time he’d seen them. The blonde lord leading the group knew his feelings. He’d known for so long. So desperately Dimitri had wished to return their relationship to when they were children. It was childlike in notion, and Felix always shot these conversations down before they could happen.

The whole Blue Lions class knew his feelings and why he left. It was unfortunately inevitable to them.

Felix decided he was not going to go turncoat due to Sylvain… the red haired knight was not worth that decision. 

Memories flooded in of frustrating interactions. Things that no matter how much Felix tried to erase from himself and tell himself he’d not cared for were seared into him by love. Sylvain always demanding to train with him. Trying to drag him from training to talk to girls. When Ingrid and Sylvain would fight over Sylvain’s long line of broken hearts. Felix would rarely be there for these many conversations between the two, but he oddly held them fondly within himself. It was the love between those two, and stubbornness to remain friends regardless of utter frustration.

Sylvain’s spirit was one he didn’t know how to interact with. 

It wasn’t something he liked admitting, but Sylvain’s mix of self-consciousness and confidence lit a confused spark within him. It was natural chemistry they worked so well together due to their opposing personalities, and Sylvain’s pursuit to interact with him in spite of his constant cold shoulder… was very interesting to Felix. Another thing he didn’t like admitting. This disposition reminded Felix of himself when he was younger towards Dimitri. Felix also knew very well Sylvain was emotionally trying to replace Miklan, his brother turned crest beast and childhood abuser, with him. There was a harsh irony he had to recognize if he was to be honest with himself.

There were times where he was thankful for Sylvain’s socialization, though he wouldn’t communicate it. There were times where he had to admit he learned something by agreeing to train with the red-headed knight, though he never said it. Even, and so rarely, times Felix felt _open_ with him. That was a hard one to deny to himself, but he would simply act as if it weren’t the case when it was occuring.

Felix’s eyes clouded again as a memory resurfaced so quickly that he couldn’t hold it down any longer. Sylvain _almost died_ for him. And now he was being forced to kill him or be killed. Not only that. Behead him.

He punched the tree again to ignore the bile rising in his throat. There was no force to the strike.

>>>Felix knew what he had to do. He was signing his grave to the Empire.

Turning in the direction of where he’d pitched his sword, he walked to it and picked up the blade by the handle. He took the last swig of his vulnerary before dashing to the edge of the collection of trees, looking in the direction of where Hubert had left. A meteor spell hit nearby and blasted him with wind. 

Looking to its source, Felix located the dark bishop, who was preparing another spell. He was yelling something, and his battalion began to approach Felix. 

The swordmaster shook his head as this scenario settled in fully, uttering a prayer as he began running headfirst into this approaching small army, sword at the ready. Like before, he tried his best to fight the soldiers one by one, making powerful and strenuous slices at any soldier who attempted to join a match. This worked until it didn’t, and Felix became overwhelmed, turning to dodging. He sustained a critical blow which caused him to fall, and the soldiers approached to try and pile in on him. 

Then, they were forced to disperse. A red haired knight in shining armor had put his lance through two soldiers and ditched his weapon to bring out another, swinging it as a fear tactic. 

Felix looked up and attempted to focus his vision. Yes, it was Sylvain. 

“Get out of here.” Felix growled through grit teeth as the knight jumped off his horse, approaching with a vulnerary. 

“Sorry bud, but no. I’m not letting you die because you were overwhelmed by soldiers. Drink this.” Sylvain responded, handing Felix the drink and assisting the swordmaster back up. He brought out his second lance and began scaring soldiers away, allowing Felix to heal up quickly in the open. 

“I’ve got questions but now’s not the time. I’ll assist you, but I won’t butt in.” Sylvain promised with a quick nod. 

As the knight mounted his horse again, Felix nodded as well to respond. He didn’t have the time to argue.

The swordmaster took a battle stance and continued his approach, slicing soldiers in his way and receiving assistance from Sylvain, who dispersed groups of soldiers. They made their way to the hill, where Sylvain yelled to Felix, “I’ll protect you while you get up there. I believe in you, man.”

Though Felix would have normally responded dryly or sarcastically, a response came out of him quicker than he could control it. 

“Thank you, Sylvain.”

Felix continued in his approach without looking back. As he came atop the hill he found Hubert with magic prepared. Mire Β was fired, and Felix was lucky enough to dodge. He charged diagonally, and made his way to the dark bishop, who wasn’t fast enough in time to launch another spell before being attacked.

Thrusting his blade forwards, Felix had successfully pierced Hubert’s robes. Damage wasn’t clear due to the dark bishop's blood being entirely soaked up by his black clothes, but that didn’t stop Felix. Aiming for a slice that would cut the dark bishop in half, Felix had asked too much of himself as his wounds affected his attack. This error allowed Hubert to dodge.

Hubert launched Dark Spikes T. The dark spell targeted Felix’s wounds, battering him and making him scream in anguish. A psychotic smile entered Huberts face. He was defending Lady Edelgard and putting this caged animal down. 

Sylvain heard the scream, which dragged a guttural “No.” out of him. Turning his horse from the battle he was engaged in, Sylvain charged up the hill eyes wide as hell. All he could say as he made his way up was, “No. No, no.” 

He just barely caught a glimpse of Hubert who still had a psychotic grin on his face as he teleported away thanks to a rescue spell. Sylvain couldn’t achieve vengeance.

Quickly dismounting from his horse, Sylvain ran to his longtime friend. Lifting him, tears fell down the knight’s face. “Felix, F-Felix I…” He cried, unable to continue. He breathed in to collect himself. “I-I should have defended you. I should have fought with you. I should have-”

Felix shook his head slightly. His eyes were half-closed. “Sylvain…” An almost undetectable laugh shivered from him. “Shut up...“ Eyes slowly closing fully, tears fell following previous streaks made before. A shudder passed through his body as a smile lit his face so gently. “Thank… you… for everything...”

Sylvain let out a scream as he held his dead friend, and sank into him as he hugged Felix’s body closer. The one he held so cherished in his heart since meeting him the first time. Memories flooded his sight, seen behind Sylvain’s tightly shut eyes. Witnessing Felix’s talent with swords in training, and being on the receiving end of the swordsman’s blade. Truly, Sylvain appreciated that talent, and wished to help grow it but also learn. He personally wasn’t bad with blades, but needed honing to develop his skills.

The first time Sylvain made Felix laugh came to mind. Sylvain had tripped over his own footing right after talking himself up so highly on his abilities with the lance. It was also one of the first times they had met within Garreg Mach, where Sylvain had begun actively pursuing interaction with the reserved man. Stubbornly, the young cavalier proved himself with a well-practiced Tempest Lance on a dummy. Felix, who maybe was interested in this friendship, maybe also just wanting a training partner, agreed to train with him. 

More memories flooded in and Sylvain cried ever harder. Talking to Felix was constantly going against the grain. Perhaps it was part of why he loved interacting with him other than just the entertainment of competing to prove who was better. For how smooth Sylvain could talk, it never fazed the swordsman and always got some sarcastic response to play it off. 

It made it fun. He always vied for Felix’s attention, which was never simply given to him. He was constantly chasing the carrot. 

Now it was all gone. Not the memories, but… the ability to have this chemistry ever again. Within himself he was praying to the goddess to allow Felix to rise to heaven in spite of joining the Empire. It was all he could compose his mind to do, which was attempting to ignore the utter caterwauling of his heart. This prayer came through his crying, incomprehensible through his heavy breathing and strained voice.

\---

Ingrid on horseback approached. She hadn’t known where Sylvain ended up and naturally feared the worst. But, recognizing his red hair in the distance, Ingrid’s heart soared. 

Making it up the hill, she dismounted from her horse next to Sylvain’s. The two animals greeted each other, but otherwise didn’t mind the other’s presence.

“Sylvain! Sylvain, I-” She began, not visually processing Felix’s body until she’d come closer. A gasp was stolen from her, and she stood with her eyes wide and hands clasped to her mouth. 

“Hubert killed him.” Sylvain said without tone. He knew what Ingrid assumed and needed to dispel it. 

Coming closer to kneel, Ingrid joined with new tears, and some breathless babbling. Sylvain in contrast was simply quiet, mourning his friend in silence. Holding him and gazing down at a face that could never smile, yell at him, scowl at his jokes... ever again.


End file.
